Chapter 24 #2
down to grab his hand and grind it into me harder. “I guess I don’t turn myself on.”
“Fuck, Everly. You turn me on.” He slowly pushes one more finger into me, stretching me, spreading my arousal over my clit. “Can I tell you the last time you turned me on at Trinity?”
I nod, my eyes closing as I process the fact that he even knew I existed at Trinity.
“It was at my rugby game when I looked up and saw you were wearing my shirt.”
I pant and turn to look at him, his eyes hooded and drugged-looking. “I didn’t know if you realized that was your shirt.”
“I did,” he gruffs, biting his lip as his eyes scan over my body. “It made me fucking crazy.”
“Why?” I ask shakily as I feel myself climbing toward an uncomfortable place in my body.
He leans in and nibbles on my neck, his faint whiskers causing spasms on my skin. “Because you’re you.”
I moan and then gasp when he rubs his rough fingers over my clit with harsh, quick pressure. My hips jolt upward like they
have a mind of their own. “Oh, my God, Conri,” I squeal as he quickens his pressure. “This is too much. It’s too—”
My release takes me by surprise, and I roll forward, my whole body coiled into a tight ball as I rupture down below. It’s
different than the one I had on his face in the barn. This one is sharp and violent. Edgy and electric. I feel tingly all
over, like someone lit sparklers under my skin, every nerve fizzing and smoldering.
“Talk to me, Everly,” Wolf says, his nose dragging along my jaw. “I need to hear what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking I’m really glad I didn’t squirt again.”
His body shakes with silent laughter as he turns my face to look at him. “That did not bother me one fucking bit.”
“How could it not?”
“It’s fucking hot,” he says seriously. “It’s the highest form of compliment for a guy.”
I hold my hand over my face, and he pulls it down, pushing back the damp strands of hair that fall across my eyes.
This is so weird. Talking through all this stuff with a guy who I swore hated me until very recently.
I was in a relationship with Hilow for two years, and we never reached this level of intimacy.
“More. I want more.” I reach down and cup Wolf’s length inside his shorts. It’s long and thick and feels like velvet-wrapped
steel. “Can I?” I ask tentatively.
He turns onto his back and folds his hands behind his head. “By all means, help yourself.”
I push down the waistband of Wolf’s boxer briefs and barely hold back my gasp when I see the full length of him. “This is
stupid big, right?” I ask, my eyes flicking up to him as I delicately stroke his flesh. “Like, don’t-turn-around-too-fast-in-a-crowded-room
big?”
Wolf’s abs pop as he laughs, covering his face with his hands as he shakes his head. “It’s not that big.”
“Um . . . okay,” I deadpan, disbelief all over my voice. “Granted, I don’t have many to compare it to, but I feel like this
is the kind of big that will make me walk funny tomorrow.”
In a flash, Wolf’s rippling body of muscle rolls over so he’s on top of me, his palms braced on either side of my head as
he blankets me in his heat. He smells like rain and some sort of natural testosterone-infused musk as he murmurs against my
lips. “Trust me, it’ll fit.”
And just as I begin to enjoy the cage he’s put me in, he’s off me and pulling a condom out of the plastic bag on the floor.
Flashbacks to that first aid he gave me in his bathroom hit me as he uses his teeth to open the package. He rolls it on with
deft precision, and jealousy needles in my belly over how many girls have probably seen him like this.
“What?” he asks, his brows furrowed as his cock bobs toward me.
“Nothing.”
He grips my chin and forces me to look at him. “What?”
I really hate how he always notices when my brain is braining.
“Just curious about your body count.” I blink up at him, trying to feign confidence.
His brows lift as he tilts his head. “Does it matter?”
“You know mine. I guess I want to know yours.”
“It was never anything serious,” he says, his voice a low rumble as he drags his tongue along my neck, dropping soft kisses
as he goes.
I grab his meaty shoulders so he’s forced to look at me. “I’m not going to judge, I promise.”
He sighs. “Keep in mind, I was a D and D nerd in primary school and most of secondary.”
“Okay . . .”
“I really didn’t get any female attention until uni and was kind of making up for lost time.”
“Yeah, okay. So . . . what are we talking? Double digits? Triple?”
“Double, only double.” Regret mars his smoldering face.
I shrug. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. Sexy, tall, fit rugby player. I’m sure it was easy for you.”
“I wouldn’t say easy . . .” he drones, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head. “But I will say, none of them make
me feel the way I feel every time you call me sexy.” He growls into my chest, and I feel a sharp twinge as he sucks my skin
into his mouth. “It was clear you would never look my way, and it drove me wild.”
“What?” My jaw drops as I grab his hair to pull his face back up so I can look at him. “Why would you say that?”
“First year, you tried to set me up with someone else. That made it pretty obvious that you weren’t interested.” His brows
lift.
“Oh, God, that’s right,” I groan and cover my face. “I was just trying to, I don’t know. Make myself useful.”
He shakes his head as his cock slides between my folds. “I could have found a number of other ways to make you feel useful.”
He reaches between our bodies and notches himself at my center, holding his length straight as he pushes his tip into me ever
so slightly.
I gasp, body count conversation completely forgotten as a painful ache spreads low and deep.
“You okay?” he asks, his eyes full of concern.
I nod, and he pushes in a little more.
“Fuuuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead onto my shoulder. “You’re so tight.”
“Just do it fast. I think that will be better.”
His head jerks up. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Conri. I want this. I want it to . . . hurt.”
“Jesus, Everly,” he mutters, like I’ve just asked him to cut out his own heart.
But he doesn’t argue. He shifts back to line himself up again, his breath ragged in my ear as his jaw tightens, and with a
groan, he drives deep into me, all at once.
I cry out at the sharp, shocked flare of pressure that’s so painful and tingly I feel overstimulated. My body squirms with
agitation. But it’s exactly what I wanted. The sting, the stretch, the wanton abandon that comes from not thinking about it
too much and just letting it happen.
My first time with Hilow was awful. It felt like he never even fully got inside me. I was dry, and everything felt wrong and
awkward. Like two idiot kids who didn’t know what they were doing. I suppose we were. This is different. So, so different.
“Christ,” Wolf hisses, voice strangled. “You’re killing me, Everly.”
“Ditto,” I whisper, digging my nails into his shoulders.
He stills, chest heaving, as if he’s giving me a second to adjust, but I roll my hips up, greedy and impatient, the burn needing some relief, some friction, something.
With a groan, Conri pulls out and plunges deep back into me, his mouth on my ear, muttering filthy Irish curses I can barely
understand but can definitely feel. Every thrust is heavy and sure, like he knows this is exactly what both of us want.
And it doesn’t hurt anymore. It burns, sweet and raw, and I cling to him, aching for that release again. That moment of euphoria that comes with a climax I’ve
only ever had with him. Is this what sex is meant to be like? Because God, I don’t know that I’ll want to stop now.
What would have happened if we’d have hooked up first year? How different would my life have turned out? What would Cliona
have thought of me when we paired together as roommates, and I told her I fucked her brother?
Ugh, Cliona.
I can’t believe I’m fucking my friend’s brother. This is so wrong . . . so, so wrong.
“Conri . . .” I gasp as that wrongness, that naughty, deceitful shiver of rule-breaking swirls deliciously through my body
while his cock slams deeper, stretching me so much I can barely breathe.
I drag my nails over his back hard enough to leave red marks, but he just grunts and fucks me harder, like he’s trying to
brand me from the inside out.
“Take it,” he growls against my neck, and the filthy command shoots straight through me. “Take my cock, Everly.”
My hips buck desperately at the lilt of his thick accent as I begin to crest over the edge. He slips his hand between our
bodies, his fingers finding my clit to rub rough and raw, perfectly in time with his thrusts.
“Oh my God.” My words are hoarse and tumble out as pressure coils tight in my core, tighter, until it snaps—white-hot and violent.
I scream, biting onto his shoulder as my body shudders in agony, and my sex clenches around his. He groans in my ear as his
body turns to stone, and he thrusts deep into me and stills, releasing his own earth-shattering climax right behind mine.
His body is damp and heavy, and I love every delicious ounce of pressure on top of me. Relish in it, even. He feels like the
best kind of anxiety reducer. Who needs sleeping pills when you have a big-thighed, big-cock, grumpy rugby player in your
bed?
I feel my stomach start to tighten as laughter bubbles up out of nowhere.
“What is so funny?” Wolf asks, out of breath as he pulls his head back to hit me with those glittering brown eyes of his.
I pat his slick back and shake my head. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Ten out of ten. No notes.”
His chuckle is warm, and the way he looks back at me is panty-melting, if my panties weren’t already melted on the floor.
My brows tweak. “Is it too much to ask when we can do it again?”
“Not too much. Just enough.”